


Paintings

by Unpainted Canvas (RatTale)



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Brother, Brother Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Protective P. T. Barnum, Worried P. T. Barnum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 08:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatTale/pseuds/Unpainted%20Canvas
Summary: Phillip is good for the Circus, but Barnum now finds that he has to ask; is the Circus good for Phillip?Good thing someone has an answer for him.





	Paintings

P.T. Barnum is secretly watching his business partner trudge up the stairs to their joint office. Even from a distance he can see the man’s hunched shoulders, his face dull from exhaustion. For the past few nights it’s been exact same scene, and getting worse if Barnum is honest. The subsequent worry cuts deeper into Barnum’s chest. It has only been three weeks since bringing him here, and already he can see the strain that Circus life is putting on the young nobleman.

Phillip is good for the Circus, the whole troupe knows this, from the day he set foot in the place everything has been running as smooth as silk, to the point that they’re making more money than ever. The man knows what he’s doing.

Phillip is _good_ for the Circus, but Barnum now finds that he has to ask; is the Circus good for _Phillip_?

A hard finger taps him on the shoulder, the tattooed appendage crooks once or twice, wordlessly urging Barnum to follow.

Barnum swerves his way through the bustle, keeping up with the Tattooed Man as best he can. Their acts are cleaning up for the evening, eager to close-up and get home, or head to the local bar, as soon as possible. Down here, in the laughter and comradeship, everyone seems so happy, accepted and content, which makes his hold tighten on the belief that everything might just be fine after all. But he also understands that these people, when he’d found them, had _needed_ a home. Phillip had already had one. One of glamour, parties and high society. Stuffy, perhaps, but a world Barnum had aspired to be a part of for a very, very long time.

He can feel the uncertainty gnawing at him. He wants to ask Phillip if he’s happy, to hear him say that he doesn’t regret leaving everything behind for this crazy life. On the other hand, he’s terrified if he asks, Phillip will outright tell him he regrets it. And what will Barnum do then?

“We’ll need to fix that,” Barnum says, eyes fixed on the pole holding the trapeze act’s ropes. It’s almost invisible in the dark, but the hairline fracture is a terrifying thing to see on a beam meant to hold safe the lives of his people.

“Can’t always control Missy, she gotta mind of her own,” says Tattooed Man, hands in his pockets staring right up at the pole. The man has a way to spot problems weeks before they have the slightest chance of becoming an issue. “Fix it in the morning?” he asks, turning to Barnum.

They’ll have to do it early, very early. He’ll have to find someone who can get here quick and do it well. It will cost them, but then again since Phillip’s been helping the circus has been doing better than ever. They can afford it. Probably.

“I’ll talk to someone tomorrow morning, early.” his smile falters when he realises Tattooed Man is not staring at him, but behind him. Turning around Barnum feels a bloom of surprise to find a well-to-do gentleman standing in the centre of the ring, watching the proceedings with the air of a man who has every right to be exactly where he is. With a quick pat on Tattooed Man’s arm he turns and walks over, pulling up a bright smile to present the wayward customer.

“Good evening, sir! P.T. Barnum at your service! I am sorry to say you’ve missed the show, but we’ll have another for you even better by tomorrow!”

The man turns at the loud voice, he is quite tall, almost as tall as Barnum, yet far more frail and thin. His smile is softer, subdued by propriety and politeness, the breeding in his posture and features impossible to miss. Possible benefactor? P.T. quietly hopes, his heart jumping at the very thought. Every dime helps. The proffered hand is taken in a firm yet gentle hold, again belying the clear upper-class breeding. The blue eyes, fair skin and dark immaculate hair cementing this fact only deeper.

“Plea-pleas-sure M-m-ister… Bar-num.” the jaw and mouth contracts and struggles around the small phrases, and it is so unexpected to hear such a painful stutter from the immaculate gentleman that for a horrible moment Barnum is lost for words. It takes him an even longer moment to school his features back into something neutral and friendly. The man is either too polite or oblivious to acknowledge the slip and continues with a smile. “I... am-m not h-here for the-the show I f-fear.”

“Then you’re missing out on the greatest show in the country!” he exclaims, laughing perhaps a little too loudly. Almost wincing at his own voice. Strange, he thinks, how he can see elephant men dance, bearded ladies sing and midgets riding horses every day, but an ordinary man stuttering out of the blue throws him completely. It is the jarring contrast, he tells himself, almost like hearing a cat barking.

Not the sudden sympathy blooming in his chest for an upper-class snob, not the realization that even they can suffer from debilitating broken parts that they are to be beaten and scorned for. And there is so very little they can do about it.

Barnum let’s go of his hand, “But I am certain you must be here for a reason, and I don’t believe I caught your name.”

The man opens his mouth to form a word, sighs, smiles and opens it again –

“Richard!”

The delighted call is accompanied by the clatter of feet charging down the remaining steps. Barnum turns just as Phillip hits the bottom, his smile a mile wide and eyes shining with delight. The picture of such a smile on the man is wonderful. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Phillip this happy.

“Phil.” Richard replies, the voice losing a tension Barnum never noticed till the precise moment it dissipates into a genuine smile. He closes the short distance to take Phillip’s hand in a hard, firm shake. Seemingly trying to stop himself from grabbing him to his chest instead.

“I didn’t think you’d make it!” Phillip says, voice still bright with mirth and happiness.

Richard just laughs, and for a moment it seems as if more is communicated than is being said. Phillip is not letting go of the man’s hand, and Barnum is starting to wonder if he should be leaving to give the two some privacy. However never one to leave a good show, he instead clears his throat.

Phillip starts, as if only then realising Barnum is still there, he drops his hand and turns a sheepish smile at his partner, “Sorry P.T. This is Richard Carlyle, my older brother.”

“Brother?” he asks, again surprised, “You never mentioned a brother!”

Phillip chuckles in response, “We never really talk about family, P.T.”

This statement, despite delivered with absolute good humour and no bite, hits Barnum square in the chest. No, he realises with a horrible start. They never do talk about anything other than business. Good for the business, certainly, but for Phillip?

Phillip quickly turns back to his brother, “It’s late, but do you still have time to grab a drink?”

Richard nods, “Of c..course.”

“I’ll just grab my hat and coat!” Phillip turns and rushes back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. His energy and life returning in leaps and bounds. In the silence Barnum smiles at Richard who flints a smile back. For a moment he debates on making his excuses and leaving before Phillip returns. But Barnum can’t seem to get his mouth to work out the proper wording. And besides, this is Phillip’s brother. The least Barnum can do is try and be cordial.

At the very least, the man does not seem to be an insufferable prick.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Carlyle?”

Richard’s mouth contracts for a moment, his head turning with the effort to force the words out, “M-mus-eum Currat-t-tor.” he takes a breath, then “I scout ou-out n-new t-talent f-for the gall-er-eries.”

“Ah!” Barnum says, “Not unlike myself. I look for only the best talent for my show! Perhaps there is a bit of a showman in you as well, Mr. Carlyle.” the instant the words leave his mouth he feels an instant pulse of shame. The man stutters, why would he say something like that?

But Richard laughs, bright and explosive, “Only i-f s-som-mone else can d-d-do the t-talking!”

Barnum laughs as well. Richard’s gaze is pulled to the top landing where Phillip is stuck speaking to Lettie and Charles about what appears to be a small problem. Or big, depending on who is complaining. When Barnum looks at Richard his expression is full of endearment, an echo of pride underlining the warm gaze. Barnum feels that warmth whisper through him, unable to stop his own bemused smile.

“Your brother is an exceptional man.” Barnum finally ventures, glancing back at Phillip as he does so.

Richard's next smile is softer, more genuine, firm and unable to fade under the absolute affection it grows from. “I know.” he says, he looks at Barnum with an expression of perfect gratitude. “He’s h-happ-py.”

“Only happier for seeing you!” Barnum can’t help but blurt, feeling the tension whip through him. He is suddenly utterly convinced that Phillip regrets leaving the high life for a world of muck, scorn and hard work. It can’t be helped, that expression of pure elation at seeing his brother is almost painful, so clearly different from the strained exhausted smiles he’s been sharing with Barnum and the troupe.

But Richard frowns, surprise flitting over his brow, he shakes his head and smiles, a whisper of understanding running over his face. Then gently he touches Barnum’s arm, gesturing to one of the posters on the far wall. “H-his j-oy,” he says, “I-is like a p-painting.”

Bemused, Barnum asks, “How so?”

Richard breathes, as if releasing a tension in his chest, then “It used to b-be w-wat-ter c-col-ours. S-softer, and sub-sub-dued, easy to-to w-w-ash away...” a light sadness touches his brow, belying a history of an elder brother’s worry and love. Barnum feels a sudden pang that he’s never had someone like that to watch over him.

He shakes himself and asks, “And now?”

Richard smiles again and points to the colourful poster, “N-now it’s an oil p-ainting, v-vib-rant, s-strong a-a-and real.” his hand squeezes, “Don’t be f-fooled b-by his s-mile. O-b-bserve him-m wh-when he laughs. That is h-his t-tell.”

And now that Barnum thinks about it, he can clearly remember the crystal bright laugher that follows Phillip around, beneath the exhaustion and tired smiles, there is always a bubbling joy ready to burst at a moment’s notice, at any excuse. Like seeing his brother.

“Thank you,” says Barnum, touching the arm at the elbow.

Richard lets go and waves the comment into nothing, appreciative of the sentiment yet clearly uncomfortable.

Phillip clatters down the steps again, smiling bright and beautiful, “We should get going, P.T. showed me the best place for French fries. We can eat it with our hands!”

The look of surprise on the regal face is enough to send Barnum and Phillip into a fit of laughter. Genuine, warm, happy laughter. Richard smiles at them, but remains a little wary. Phillip quickly goes to stand beside him, bursting with holding back the need to grab him and drag him outside. Gentlemen do not behave that way, and it’s clear Phillip looks up to his brother with a gaze crafted from love, respect and admiration.

Richard holds up a finger and Phillip nods, “Of course! I’ll meet you outside. Good evening P.T. I’ll see you tomorrow!” he waves before heading to the doors.

When he’s gone, Richard turns to Barnum, “G-good e-vening Mr. Barnum. It w-was a p-leasure.” he says, replacing his hat.

“Likewise, Mr. Carlyle.” they shake hands.

Richard turns to leave, but stops suddenly. He turns around again and says softly, almost secretly, “Thank you, m-Mr. Barnum.”

Barnum doesn’t need to have it spelled out to him, so he only nods and when Richard leaves, he takes with him a tension Barnum is glad to be rid of. He feels a bubble of gratitude at finding Phillip, but more so that Phillip, despite losing so much, has someone that seems unwilling to let him go.

No matter where in the world he might find him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a scene for a longer story I’m currently working on for this fandom, and then it turned into a sweet friendship one-shot that I fell in love with and instantly wanted to share. I hope you all enjoyed!


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